


Truth or Dare

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/F, First Time, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just another Leslie and Ann sleepover until Leslie asks, "Truth or dare?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diaphenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/gifts).



> AKA some lesbian smut. [from tumblr prompt form Diaphenia: Leslie/Ann: truth or dare]

“Hey Ann.”

“Hm?” 

It’s not like Ann doesn’t like Leslie in her bed, or the monthly sleepovers they have, or the fact that Leslie stays up until three in the morning, it’s just.... well, Ann is very tired.

“Truth or dare.”

Ann opens her eyes and Leslie’s looking at her with one of her signature smirky faces that tell you she has some big plan behind those eyes. She can see it in the darkness, lit by Ann’s mermaid nightlight that Leslie got her last year. It’s got a powerful little glow and it’s light is touching Leslie in a really nice, soft way. Leslie has a way of always finding the light.

Ann yawns.

“Truth.”

“Who’s the best member of NSYNC?”

“You’re going to waste a truth on that?”

“Waste? Ann, this is a very important question, in which your answer holds a lot of importance in balance of our friendship.”

“Wait really?”

“Just answer it, you have to, or you have to take the dare.”

Ann rolls on her side and curls a little into a ball, bumping Leslie’s knees with hers. She leaves them there. They always wake up touching somehow anyway. It’s nice, almost nicer than any of the men she’s shared a bed with. Especially Andy, who sleeps spread out like a starfish.

“JC.”

“What? Get out.”

“This is my bed.”

“Okay, fine, but for the record, the answer was Justin, obviously. They would have been nothing without him and don’t even get me started on how Chris kept them together the longest, because you know he did.” Leslie sighs, disappointed. “You’re lucky you’re so beautiful.”

Ann smiles, that nice warmth spreading in her chest that usually follows a Leslie compliment. Whether it’s in defense of one of Ann’s faults or backhanded, they still do that to her.

“Your turn,” Leslie says.

Ann snuggles a little more and a little closer to Leslie. Leslie is like a heater and Ann refuses to run the heat at night.

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Something sparks across Leslie’s face and her mouth curls up even more. 

“Kiss me,” Ann says.

Simple, like of course, of course that is what one friend would dare another friend to do while alone in bed. Not to mention, high school taught her that truth or dare has to work up to the big dares like kissing but Ann, apparently, is all in.

Leslie’s eyes widen but then squint a little in determination before pushing forward -- they weren’t that far apart, apparently --- and pressing her lips to Ann’s.

Her mouth is small and warm, and Ann loves that even in the middle of the night, she tastes like sugar. 

It’s a short kiss that leaves Ann a mess of butterflies and pumping blood. Her ears are maybe ringing or her mind’s clouded over or it’s a bit of both. Leslie’s eyes are all over Ann’s face and Ann would like to catch them and see if there are answers there.

“We should do that again,” Leslie says.

Ann’s yes comes in the form of another kiss, a little harder this time, exploring. Their tongues are soft and gentle and Ann feels like she’s coming undone from this alone. It’s different to be kissed like this, like Ann’s worth the time to figure out, like Ann is worth the effort in making her heart jump and her muscles heat.

But that’s Leslie. She’ll make you feel like the center of the Earth, like your tears during _Dirty Dancing_ are the rains from the heavens, like your pancakes on a Sunday morning are made by Julia Child. She’ll lift you up and say yes to everything from painting your nails maroon, to going to Indy for the weekend, to going on a date with that cute guy by the bell peppers.

She’ll kiss you like you’re the last well on Earth and she’s eager to live.

Ann turns them over, spreading her legs over Leslie’s hips and pushing her hands into her hair. Leslie responds with a moan that unravels in Ann’s mouth. It gives Ann life, makes her hands sneak under Leslie’s shirt and trace skin. She’s smooth and soft; Ann’s already addicted. Leslie’s shirt comes off and Ann is almost startled to see nothing but pale skin. Of course she wouldn’t be wearing a bra to bed but it makes everything feel more real, as if one more little bit of fabric could keep this going like a dream.

“Your turn,” Leslie says.

Ann snaps out of her tiny spiral and Leslie tugs on the bottom of her shirt. Oh, right, her shirt. Ann lifts it over her head and tosses it aside.

“Holy mother…”

Ann smiles and looks down at herself, bare chested, connected with Leslie at her hips, Leslie’s skin glowing in the darkness. Leslie’s eyes are wide and roaming, something in the pull of her lip making Ann feel like she’s the only woman in the world.

“Ann, I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, you--”

Ann doesn’t let her finish that sentence. Instead, she kisses her again, moaning at the easy way Leslie opens her mouth and the soft touch and glide of her breasts on Ann’s. Leslie’s hands clutch Ann’s waist, dig her nails into her skin and up her torso until her fingers are cautious beneath her breasts. Ann curves her back, trying to give her the room to touch her because fuck, she really wants Leslie to touch her.

She does and Ann drops her mouth from Leslie’s and moans. Her forehead hits Leslie’s chin and she watches Leslie’s short fingers work on her breasts, circling nipples and squeezing with Leslie’s signature enthusiasm. She likes the way Leslie’s stomach curves up with her inhales and how their hips are moving slightly, craving friction. She likes the contrast of Ann’s dark fingers clinging onto Leslie’s pale waist. She could watch their bodies touch, their bodies react and move, forever.

Leslie’s hand moves down Ann’s chest, drifting down her stomach to where their bodies meet. Ann stills, heart beating and stomach dropping. She’s warm and breathing too fast. Leslie’s fingers slip under the waistband of Ann’s shorts, past her underwear, over her skin. Ann’s on fire. 

Lower, lower.

“Leslie.”

Her touch is soft and Ann is sure she’s nervous but Ann’s not even thinking when she moves her hips forward, inching Leslie’s fingers closer. Leslie’s arm is just a little short to reach so she curves her body sideways, gaining length and then she’s there.

They both let out a small breath of relief, as if this is the last hurdle they needed to fly over, like all uncertainty is gone. It isn’t of course, but it’s a very, very good start. 

Leslie rubs her fingers over Ann, teasing and careful. Ann moves her hips until Leslie pushes a little farther, until her fingers are on her fully and until the caution is gone and there’s only want.

Ann lets out a squeaky moan and Leslie pushes her down, her back flattening on the bed. Leslie kisses her and it’s nice to feel her lips again, especially as her fingers move over her clit, down to her opening where she gathers more juices and comes back up again. Ann wants to cling onto Leslie’s hair but she can’t seem to undo her fingers from the sheets. Leslie keeps kissing her, her fingers move all over, a bit random and fast, but her touch and lips are so enthusiastic; so Leslie.

Leslie backs away from Ann’s lips, traveling down her neck to her chest. Her fingers slow and her mouth hovers above her breast. Ann watches, starts to tell her it’s okay, they can stop, but then Leslie licks her lips and her mouth lowers.

Ann’s back arches and she finally gets her hand in Leslie’s hair. Leslie’s tongue flicks and her lips suck and Ann has to wonder if she’s done this before. Maybe a man she dated loved nipple play. It doesn’t matter because Leslie’s fingers are moving again, this time she’s deep inside Ann and turning her wrist with every thrust. 

Unfortunately, Leslie stops and Ann tries to pick up her upper body to make sure she’s okay but also her head is swimming.

“These pants are cute and I love unicorns, Ann, but it’s time.”

Ann laughs as Leslie jumps off the bed and tugs at the waistband of Ann’s pants and underwear and pulls them off in one swift motion. There’s a long moment before Leslie moves, Ann’s pajamas still in her hands as her eyes trace Ann’s body. Ann waits, trying to catch her breath and to look sexy or appealing or as if Leslie’s eyes aren’t tracing patterns of lava on her skin.

“Truth or dare,” Leslie says. 

Her voice is very low voice, a voice Ann’s never heard which is odd considering Ann thought she knew all of Leslie’s voice inflections. From excited, sad, just saw a picture of Joe Biden on Instagram, you have to watch this documentary, good waffle, disappointed, to angry.

“Truth,” Ann says.

Leslie drops the pajamas and gets on the bed on her knees, balancing between Ann’s legs. She sits back on her feet and touches the skin on Ann’s thighs. Ann wishes she shaved her legs but if Leslie cares, there is no sign of it.

“Is this okay?”

Leslie’s hands still and Ann thinks. It has to be, because Ann’s never felt this good and Ann’s never wanted anyone this bad, and Ann has no idea what is going on all in one breath. What does this change, what stays the same, what will happen when they wake up in the morning? 

“Yes,” Ann says. 

Ann blocks the questions and leans her head back as Leslie’s mouth travels over her thighs, her hips. Leslie reaches up and Ann meets her at her stomach and their hands clasp together as Ann opens her legs wider and Leslie moves a little closer.

Leslie’s fingers are soft as they pull her apart and her kisses are sweet and tender. They make warm pulses travel up Ann’s torso and into her chest, her brain, her arms, her legs. Leslie takes a tentative lick and Ann moans, gripping onto Leslie’s fingers. She does it again and their hold gets tighter, one more time and Ann should be worried she’s going to break Leslie’s fingers. 

“Wow,” Leslie whispers.

Then her face is against Ann, no longer tentative and soft, but enthusiastic and exploring. She laps and bites and Ann can only hold onto her hand as she floats away. There are stars behind her eyes and trembles in her muscles, an ache in her bones that makes her jerk her hips up just to get closer. Leslie takes her there, all the way up until Ann is sure her head is in the clouds and her heart is being carved into with the only word Ann is able to let escape her lips.

There’s whispered questions and fingers move and trade places with Leslie’s tongue but it’s all so good, that every answer to Leslie’s questions are, “Yes.”

Yes that feels good, yes keep doing that, yes I fucking love that, yes deeper, yes faster, yes, yes, yes.  
Leslie makes her climb and it’s a slow ascend that takes Ann longer than she’d wish to reach. Ann isn’t very fast at this anyway, but Leslie doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon, not even showing an ounce of fatigue as her tongue plunges and laps, her fingers circling and thrusting. Her fingers curl and her mouth is flat against her, tongue lapping in these big circles that Ann feels rip her open. 

That’s how she feels when she peaks, like she’s bare and open, exploding with stars and everything she has. And it’s all Leslie’s for the taking. 

Their hands are still clasped together, bones sore and palms sweaty. Ann pulls Leslie up and kisses her, face wet and smiling, capturing more teeth and tongue than lips.

They kiss like they did before, when this was only a dare. Ann’s hands slip under Leslie’s pajamas and soon they are gone in a mess of awkward shimmies and giggles. Ann touches her and Leslie makes these really cute sounds and she sucks in these sharp breaths when Ann bites her neck. Leslie’s chest turns pink as she climbs and her she digs her nails into Ann’s arm as she comes and in the come down it’s only touching and kissing.

Giggling, Leslie nips at Ann’s lip, and it jolts Ann awake. She’s droopy with sleep even though every part of her is alive.

“Truth or dare?” Ann asks.

Leslie snuggles closer, their legs tangling together and skin pressed as tight as they can get. Leslie kisses Ann’s neck and says, “Truth.”

Ann squeezes her tighter and Leslie does the same, their hips rocking a little, causing Ann to move her fingers over Leslie’s breast. She’s never going to sleep tonight.

“What’s Reese Witherspoon’s best Oscars dress?”

Leslie’s teeth hit Ann’s collar bone. 

“Trick question. Her best dress will always be the yellow cocktail dress from the 2007 Golden Globes.”

Ann laughs, tilting Leslie’s chin up so she can kiss her.

Not because of a dare, or to tell Leslie the truth, but just because she wants to.


End file.
